By Your Side
by Dawnoflight95
Summary: Dean escapes Purgatory but he can't run from the haunting memory of Castiel slipping through his fingers. Just when all hope seems to fade, the Angel comes back with an important message. Warning: Drunk Dean. One shot. Destiel.


This... probably is over done as an idea, but I couldn't help it. I like an angry Dean because that's only when he seems to be truthful about his feelings.

This may or may not be dedicated to a certain little sophomore I know. Enjoy.

* * *

_"Look at these hands at my side_  
_They swallowed the grave on that night_  
_When I drank the world's sin_  
_So I could carry you in_  
_And give you life _  
_I want to give you life_

_And I'll be by your side wherever you fall_  
_In the dead of night whenever you call_  
_And please don't fight these hands that are holding you_  
_My hands are holding you"_

_~Tenth Avenue North - By Your Side._

* * *

"CAS." Dean slammed a fist into the wall, his head getting heavier with each drink he knocked back. Unbelievable. "I KNOW YOU'RE THERE CAS. YOU'RE EVERYWHERE, AREN'T YOU?" He threw a bottle to the ground, relishing how the glass shattered easily against the tile of the motel's kitchen.

The past few days had been more than rough on the hunter. Escaping from Purgatory with a vampire, coming to terms that he had spent a year in a second Hell, and dealing with the amount of bloodshed was enough. But to have come so close to saving them both, and failing, was the breaking point. Making it to the other side was not worth feeling Castiel's fingers slip through his. Failure seemed to be a constant in Dean Winchester's life, and just like he had let so many others down, he had let Castiel down.

If it wasn't stressful enough to have that on his shoulders, Dean kept seeing the Angel. And he had tried to convince himself that he was hallucinating, but even that seemed like a lie. He'd look into a mirror and see the battered Angel, caked in dirt, exhaustion rimming the blue eyes that peered into his own. He'd turn the corner only to see Castiel for a split second. But the most torturous sound was the wings. Dean would wake up, and wings, they'd leave him.

"CASTIEL, ANGEL OF THE LORD, GOD HIMSELF AT ONE POINT, HAS NO MORE TIME FOR HIS HUNTER." Dean felt like he was falling apart. How could something so good be so destructive? Angels, portrayed as creatures of good and purity, had left him ridden with the toxin of hate and despair.

Dean sat on the creaky motel bed. Sam was gone. Benny was on his own. All he truly had left was Castiel, but where was he? Where was his angel? Suddenly, the weirdly shaped pillows were perfect and the scratchy sheets were soft. Dean willed for sleep. He had found being drunk or asleep was the best way to avoid all Castiel related emotions.

Just when he thought sleep was to overcome him, there was a rattle, and then, he found the sound he that was a beaming light in the hazing cloud of depression.

Dean Winchester heard wings.

"Dean." Soft, but firm hands took his shoulders as his head rocked back and forth. "Dean, we need to talk."

"TALK?" Dean shoved the Angel away from him. Talking. So eager to talk. "Yeah, let's TALK Cas. Let's talk about Purgatory, which sounds like a fun subject to talk about."

The Angel stood his ground. "I…"

"What Cas? Are you sorry? Tell me how sorry you are, and then lecture me about how you've given up heaven and left the rest of your freaking garrison to 'watch over me'." Dean felt waves of emotion crashing into him. He could not stop all the words coming from his mouth, even though the Angel was clearly hurt.

"What I did, my rebellion, was always, and always will be, for you. Do not let the memories of Purgatory cloud your mind Dean. We both know how much we have sacrificed for each other." The Angel looked away from the seething man, as if he was reliving dark memories.

Dean gave a mirthless laugh. "Yes, but who turned their back on us and went crawling around with Crowley?" Dean's voice began to choke. "Who let go of my hand when we were at the exit of Purgatory?" Dean sat down on the bed, violently trembling at the memory. Tears were now evident in the hunter's emerald eyes. A broken man, a shattered son, and a useless brother; and now, even God couldn't bear to look him in the eyes.

"I have made mistakes, yes. But I want to remind you that I am capable of mistakes as well." Castiel moved closer to Dean, kneeling on his knees at his side. "What can I say to make this okay?" The breath of alcohol was heavy and the way Dean's body moved so sloppily only told the Angel that this would be a conversation that would be forgotten when the sun rose.

"Anything Castiel," Dean drunkenly begged. "Say anything that can make this go away."

Castiel gripped Dean's wrists to stop the shaking. "Look at me Dean." When the green failed to reach the oceanic blue, Castiel gave him a pinch. Their eyes met. "I'm going to tell you nothing but the truth now, Dean. Listen closely."

Dean nodded.

"Dean Winchester, morning does not come until I can see you are awake, loading the shot gun and sharpening your knife. I cannot rest easy at night until I know you are asleep, getting your four hours, where I can watch over you." Dean's eyelids began to droop, and Castiel knew that his words would ease the tortured man to sleep. "I turned my back on Heaven and I will never regret a single moment of it. I only regret the times you looked at me with disappointment."

When Dean said nothing, Castiel continued. "I can only hope that one day you truly forgive me for all these sins I have committed. Being an Angel does not exempt me from being a friend. Above all, I am your friend, Dean Winchester. And if I am not that, then allow me the honor of forever being your Guardian Angel."

"Castiel…"

"Yes, Dean?"

"You're such a baby." Dean couldn't help but smile at the Angel's half smile. "A baby in a trench coat."

"Sleep, Dean." Castiel easily lifted the hunter and placed him gently on the sheets. "Sleep, and do not think that I have strayed far from you." When Dean closed his eyes, Castiel looked to the sky. He would not pray to God to watch over Dean. From now on, he'd watch over him.

With that, the Angel vanished into thin air, leaving the man to sleep until the morning.

* * *

Thoughts are appreciated.


End file.
